World At War
by KnightLyte
Summary: Harry and Cedric are whisked away to the graveyard the night of the 3rd task, but what would happen if Harry had died instead of Cedric? Would the Wizarding world continue to deny the return of the Dark Lord, or would they stand up and fight in honor of their fallen savior? H/HR


**World At War**

**Prologue **

"Where are we?"

Cedric shook his head uncertainly, getting to his feet and helping the injured boy up. His eyes roamed the unfamiliar terrain; a dark and dank graveyard, overgrown with shrubs and weeds, nestled at the foot of a tall hill. The seventeen year old was unsure of what had happened or where they were now... all he knew was that this was _not_ Hogwarts. He glanced down towards his hand, where the Tri-Wizard cup was still clamped firmly within his grip. He gently lifted it up and down, as if testing its' weight, and frowned.

"Did anyone tell you that the cup was a portkey?" he asked, glancing down at Harry, who seemed just as bewildered as he.

"No, I... I don't know," Harry mumbled, his head turning side to side as he looked around. "Is this part of the task?"

"Not sure," Cedric replied, reaching towards his pocket to retrieve his wand. "Get your wand back out. Better to be safe than sorry."

The younger boy nodded and pulled out his own wand, holding it at the ready as they cautiously made their way through the graveyard, ducking and weaving behind trees and tombstones as they did so. Cedric glanced at Harry several times as they moved, just to make sure that the boy was still with him; an odd sensation welled within his gut, setting him on edge. Someone was watching them... he could _feel _it.

"Look, over there," whispered Harry, grabbing him by shoulder to halt him in his tracks. "Someone's approaching..."

The two students knelt behind a decayed statue, half its' structure crumbled and worn away by time. They watched through squinted eyes as a mysterious figure drew near, walking in such a way that suggested it was carrying something. As it came closer, the finer details of the person could be made out, and what once looked like a bundle of robes in its' arms now appeared to be a pale, deathly-looking child swathed in cloth. Cedric and Harry shared a puzzled look as the infant began _speaking_, though the voice was so quiet that they could not hear what it said, despite the unnatural hush that had befallen the graveyard.

Suddenly, Harry let out a strangled cry and fell to his knees, clutching desperately at his face. Cedric turned to aid him but was stopped cold as chilling voice cried out, "Kill the spare!"

He watched in horror as the killing curse was fired, the sickeningly green light filling his vision. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the deadly beam inching its way towards him. Cedric told himself to run, to duck, to hide, to _move_; _**anything**_**. **But he was frozen, body unwilling to move despite his mind's furious protests. This was it. He was going to die.

He closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable nothingness...

"Watch out!"

Cedric grunted as he was abruptly tackled by the side, groaning loudly as his head was knocked roughly against the side of the statue. Wave after wave of excruciating pain ripped and tore its way through his skull as the world around him spun in a dizzying display of lights and sounds. He could feel a wet trail seep down the side of his face and knew that he was bleeding. Blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision, he was only able to see the blurred image of a sweaty and frantic Harry, and hear a whispered, "_Stay down!_" before his entire world went black.

* * *

Cedric was awoken by a terrified scream, his eyes shooting wide open as he was forced back into consciousness. Biting his lip to stifle the pain, he placed a hand atop his head, feeling the wet and warm blood as it continued to leak from his wound. Bracing himself against the nauseating effects of head trauma, he forced himself not to retch and slowly pushed himself to his knees.

'_What happened...'_

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail."

"No, my Lord... never, my Lord..."

Brows knitting tightly in confusion, the teen dared to peek his head around the side of the stone that hid him. What he saw nearly shocked him back into unconsciousness.

The prone form of Harry was bound and restrained against a tall statue - a menacing figure of the Angel of Death - and surrounded by what could only be a crowd of Death Eaters. What terrified him the most, however, was the one man who stood in the center of them, smirking and sneering as he poked and prodded the young boy's body. Cedric felt his blood run cold; he had never seen the man in his life, but he instinctively knew... the man in the middle was none other than Lord Voldemort.

He continued to watch on silently as the Dark Lord berated his followers for failing him, torturing each one by one with the _Cruciatus _before dismissing them and leaving him alone. Crouching lower, Cedric hoped that Voldemort would leave and he could escape undetected, but luck did not seem to favor him.

"You may come out of hiding now," the Dark Lord ordered, arms crossed behind his back as he stared stoically at the limp form of Harry, still bound against the statue.

His breath caught in his throat.

"Come," he repeated. "I will not harm you."

Cedric wanted nothing more than to pretend he hadn't heard him, but some twisted sense of self-preservation told him that he would survive if he just did what he was told. Shakily, he got to his feet and hobbled over, standing cautiously behind him as Voldemort continued to stare at Harry's body.

"What is your name." It almost more of a statement than a question.

He blinked. "Uh... e-excuse me?"

"Your name, what is it," said Voldemort.

"C-Cedric Diggory... sir."

"Diggory..." Voldemort was silent for a moment before continuing. "A pureblood family." When Cedric did not answer, he tilted his head towards him and raised his brow.

"Oh, y-yeah," Cedric stuttered.

"There is no need to be afraid," he spoke, turning around to fully face him. "As I said, I will not harm you... and you will continue to remain unharmed as long as you do exactly as I say."

The Hufflepuff blanched. "What... what do you want me to do?"

"It is simple," said Voldemort, wandlessly summoning the Tri-Wizard cup into his hand. "Take this and return to Hogwarts. And when they ask you what happened, you tell them this: Harry Potter is dead... and Lord Voldemort lives."

Before Cedric could get another word in, the cup was placed into his hand and he was whisked away.

* * *

**A/N:** So this is my first HP-fic. I know it wasn't long, but I wanted the prologue to be a simple 'teaser' to see how people react to it. If I feel that people are into it, I'll continue with (obviously) longer chapters and continue on with the story. That being said, if you like the idea and want it to go on, please leave a review!

- Knight


End file.
